


Analogy

by Rona23



Series: Merlin´s  magic [41]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arthur Finds Out About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Magic Revealed, Magic-Users, Magical Accidents, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Merthur - Freeform, POV Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Prince Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Merlin, magic as a disease, magic is not a disease, merthur if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:07:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27399238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rona23/pseuds/Rona23
Summary: Arthur had always known that magic was linked to people's emotions.That was something his father had mentioned once when he was younger. He sat Arthur down and told him how dangerous magic was.How you couldn't trust people who chose to use magic. Because their anger and their fears would bottle up and make them explode. They were living bombs.Sorcerers could not be trusted. Even if they seemed like good people, magic would slowly overtake them, corrupt them and destroy everything around them.And if you were unlucky, you would catch their disease. Their magic. And become a bomb yourself.
Relationships: Arthur Pendragon & Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Gaius & Merlin (Merlin), Knights of the Round Table & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Knights of the Round Table & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Uther Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin´s  magic [41]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588378
Comments: 22
Kudos: 269





	Analogy

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Atlantis](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/709738) by Seafret. 



> This story was requested by @comebackkaren on wattpad.  
> Based on Atlantis by Seafret.  
> To be honest this has absolutely nothing to do with the song lyrics. But while listening to it, I saw Arthur's world collapsing under his feet at the thought of Merlin being corrupted by magic. And after he learns that his father was wrong, the entire foundation of his relationship with his father does.  
> "I can't save us" is practically how Arthur feels. So personally I think it does fit the lyrics somehow... abstractly... but it's not an actual song fic.  
> I'm pretty sure this isn't exactly what you wanted,  
> But this is what the song provided me with. I sure hope you like it anyway :) I tried. I'm bad with requests, sorry D:

Arthur had always known that magic was linked to people's emotions.  
That was something his father had mentioned once when he was younger. He sat Arthur down and told him how dangerous magic was.  
How you couldn't trust people who chose to use magic. Because their anger and their fears would bottle up and make them explode. They were living bombs.  
(A.N.:// I dunno if any form of bombs existed at the time. I honestly don't think so. But idc. In my defense, I didn't have a better analogy.)  
Sorcerers could not be trusted. Even if they seemed like good people, magic would slowly overtake them, corrupt them and destroy everything around them.  
And if you were unlucky, you would catch their disease. Their magic. And become a bomb yourself.

This is why Arthur watched, when children were lead to the pyre. Even if it meant tearing his own heart apart.  
Arthur hated it. Hated it more than anything. He had seen people hanged or burned or drowned that he used to know. That he used to play with.  
People who seemed nice and comforting. But they were all dangerous. Dangerous and destructive.  
And Arthur knew they couldn't be saved. And he was scared he'd end up like them.

“Magic latches on to the dark side of the nicest people. And it destroys them from the inside. Until they tear everyone down with them.”, is what Uther said.  
Magic was a disease. A sickness. One even Gaius the court physician couldn't cure.  
The old man himself had fallen ill of this sickness once. But Uther swore that Gaius had managed to fight it's corruption. At least he wasn't contagious anymore, Uther said. How Gaius managed it, Arthur didn't know. And Uther told him it was an almost impossible feat that costed lots of sacrifices. Sacrifices you couldn't force people to pay.  
Ever since Arthur knew, he saw the physician in a completely different light.  
But magic wasn't a simple disease. Catching it didn't just endanger you. It didn't just endanger everyone around you. It literally made you a killer. A murderer. A monster.  
And you couldn't even do anything against it.

However, there were people in his life that Arthur just knew couldn't have magic. People that couldn't have been corrupted by magic, because they were too good people. And never involved with other sorcerers. There were people who were immune, because there was no darkness within them. At least Arthur wanted to believe it. It gave him hope.

Gwen for example was the kindest person he ever knew. She could never have magic.  
And Merlin?  
Merlin was innocent and clumsy. Nothing about him was dark and twisted. Nothing about him could give you the mere idea that he'd ever thought to harm Arthur.  
Quite the opposite. Merlin kept offering his own life for Arthur's. Even before they had known each other.

Arthur just knew, Merlin would be save.  
He didn't just believe it, he was certain of it. Because he had considered the possibility and realized that Merlin was NOTHING that could make him a magic user. No secret past, no hidden grudges against the king. Nothing. There was no dark side that magic could latch on to.

That is precisely why Arthur's world shattered, when Merlin exploded.

It started, when they were captured by bandits. Naturally. It's always bandits.  
This was nothing Arthur wasn't used to. But he knew most of his men weren't.  
Torture was not exactly something you should get used to. But Arthur had endured the procedures so often, he already developed thick skin.  
Some of the knights – like Gwaine and Percival – were just as used to it as Arthur was.  
Mostly, because Percival had been rebelling against the kingdom he was previously living in, Gwaine because he kept being a menace to all sorts of people.

Arthur was used to it, because he had been captured before. He had been tortured before. Because he was the crown prince and therefore the most valuable hostage any bandit could ask for.  
Turns out the bandits who captured them this time were especially cruel ones.  
They weren't interested in hurting Arthur directly – but hurting the people he cared about.

Emotional torture was a completely different kind of torture, as Arthur would soon figure out. It wasn't something you could will away. Because it was your will that was attacked directly. And everything beyond. Your heart, your emotions. Everything you usually hid away, because it's where you're most sensitive.

Arthur cursed that it was this obvious to the world, how fond he was of Merlin.

Here they were, standing in cells and screaming at the bandits to stop. While they were branding Merlin with hot iron. Whipping him on his bare back.  
Cutting his chest with rusty knifes.  
Putting salt on the wounds and washing them out with alcohol.  
It was hell to hear him scream. It was the worst feeling Arthur had every experienced really. When they broke Merlin's fingers, he could feel the screams echoing in his bones.  
But it was worse somehow, because he knew the pain was inflicted on his best friend.  
A person he loved and cherished was in pain. He couldn't will that away. He couldn't.

Arthur would have rather died than witness this. But he forced himself to watch and to remember. So that next time they went out, he'd have more reason to protect his friend.  
So that, as soon as they got out of here, he could treat every single of his wounds with the upmost care. Or – if Merlin died -.... Arthur didn't think that sentence through. Merlin would survive. He would. He'd make sure of it.

At some point, as Arthur still refused to talk, they gave Merlin some kind of potion.  
Arthur didn't know what it was. But black substances usually reject the option of harmlessness.  
Arthur could hear Gwaine begging next to him.  
Begging Arthur to just tell them what they wanted to know.

The problem was – Arthur didn't KNOW what they wanted to know. They had asked something about the vaults of Camelot and that they wanted to retrieve something. Or someone.  
But what information did Arthur have that they truly needed to get into Camelot?  
They keys were in Arthur's room. Every servant knew that. It would be easier to sneak in and pretend to be one, than ask Arthur for his opinion on it.

When the bandit held his knife to Merlin's face and run it deep, deep through his skin, Arthur's eyes flickered away for a second.  
He could still hear the muffled groan of his manservant. It did nothing to calm him.  
Arthur could hardly breathe.

“What did you give him?”, Arthur asked, his voice sounding hoarse and cracked.  
He hadn't had anything to drink in hours. Ironically, the potion made his thirst even worse. Though Arthur knew he would do better drinking his own blood.  
The thirst too, must be worse for Merlin, because the poor servant had been sweating bullets and crying and screaming since they got here. His throat must be sore from all of that.

“Just poison.”, the bandit replied calmly.  
Arthur's eyes widened. His breath hitched.  
“Don't worry. He won't die just yet. It's a low dose. The poison is just tearing him apart. In a couple of hours, he'll look even prettier from the inside than out.”  
The sadistic bastard grinned, as he admired his work. That's not poison. That's basically acid.

“What the hell do you want?”, Arthur couldn't hold back his tears any longer. He knew the knights around him had averted their eyes long ago. But he had heard some of them cry as well.

“I just want to know, where the hidden vaults lay.”, the man turned his knife in his hand. He was grinning, enjoying himself on Arthur's emotional outburst.  
“And I've told you! I don't KNOW anything about any hidden vaults!”

“Well, if that's so ….”, the bandit shrugged and began to carve out a large piece of Merlin's skin.  
Merlin screamed.  
“Please – stop!”, Merlin heaved.  
He hadn't said anything in a while. No wonder. He must be concentrating really hard not to faint right on the spot.  
His eyes were flickering open and closed. Maybe it was Arthur's imagination, but there was something yellow or gold spreading through them .  
But maybe that was just a reflection from the single torch that lighted up the room. If you could call this a room. It was barely a cell.  
The cell was hidden somewhere in a make shift hut, somewhere in the darkling woods.  
The torch provided barely enough light to see Merlin's face and his wounds. The blood looked black and golden too.

“Yeah.... no.”, the bandit rolled his eyes.  
“You're my hostage. All I want to know is where Kilgharrah is.”

“Who the hell is Kilgharrah?”, Merlin hissed and Arthur could only wince, as he heard a rattling sound coming out with every breath Merlin took.  
(A.N.:// This is before Merlin becomes a Dragon lord. Kilgharrah is still in the dungeons. Balinor was the one who told Merlin his name. That's why Merlin doesn't know who Kilgharrah is.  
Also, Arthur doesn't know there is a dragon in the vaults. That might not be canon …. but Uther never mentioned the dragon. So I figured I just gotta roll with it, ya know.)

The bandit punched him in the face. Arthur could hear something break and hoped dearly it was the bandit's hand and not Merlin's jaw.  
Merlin took a deep audible breath. His entire body shaking from the collision. He was hanging from the walls, visible for all of them to see. Arthur growled.  
“I didn't ask you, peasant. I asked the prince.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about!”, Arthur growled. “LET. Him. GO!”, he said through gritted teeth.  
The bandit shrugged with a sigh. “What a shame. Maybe you don't care as much about this boy as I heard you did.  
What do you say... you wanna give my knife a go yourself?”  
The bandit looked at Arthur seriously. Arthur's jaw might as well have cracked his teeth through, that's how hard he gritted on them.

“So yes then.”, the bandit grinned and walked closer to Arthur. His bloody knife reflected golden and red in the fire light.  
He ran the knife passed Arthur's own cheek, ignoring the tear stains on them.  
Despite his initial feeling of repulsion, Arthur also felt relief. At least he'd let go of Merlin now.

But that's when the torch unlit.  
“What the hell?”, the bandit turned around in the middle of the darkness. And Arthur could only tell, because the only thing illuminated at the place were Merlin's eyes. Merlin who looked alarmed and furious and worried... about Arthur.  
“Don't you dare touch him.”, Merlin said, his voice raspy. His eyes were wide with a warning and stern, like this man's attempts of breaking him had only hardened his soul.  
And brought out a side that Arthur didn't even know existed. A dark side.  
Arthur could hear his own blood pumping in his veins.

Somehow, Arthur knew what this was. This grudge. This golden glowing something that his father had warned him about.  
“Merlin stop.”, Arthur saw the warning signs and his heart constricted.  
Merlin was in pain, he was full of hatred for this bandit. If he wasn't careful ….  
The bandit was a sorcerer. That much was clear, because that's how he had knocked them out in the first place. He was contagious. Merlin couldn't be... shouldn't...

“I said calm down, Merlin!”, Arthur ordered. But it was no use. The bandit smiled and Arthur could feel the slicing pain of a knife on his own skin.  
And that's when the whole place exploded.  
Shards of stones and iron shackles slammed against the walls and broke them apart in an instant. They couldn't tell how far they spread, only that they disappeared somewhere in the dark of the forest. The entire building shattered to pieces.  
The man – the bandit – a sorcerer, mind you – was held by invisible forces now. One scream of Merlin's lungs and the man's neck snapped. He fell to the ground. Dead.  
And Merlin stood there, still heaving with magic.

Golden waves, like starlight or fire, bright as lightning surrounded Arthur's servant like a mantle of power. All while the air around them twisted and spiraled, like they were building a whole tornado.

(A.N.://I might have used this picture before. (instagram: changelink23, tumblr: changelink) But it fit so well with this story, I just used it again. If you HAVEN'T seen it.... that's good then XD It's one of my personal favorites.... of my own art obviously XD)

Arthur and the knights – now free from their shackles – had also been slammed to the ground, but they were protected by Merlin's will, while Merlin himself wavered … and fell to his knees.

His eyes still flickering yellow and gold before they closed and everything was quiet once again. Merlin fell forward, on his face. He was unconscious.

The knights immediately looked at Arthur. Fear in their eyes. They knew just what Arthur knew. And they felt as panicked as he did.  
But Arthur didn't dare touch Merlin. He stood there, staring at Merlin, himself unharmed, his own mind battered and bruised.  
He shivered, his eyes were twitching slightly. His vision blurred with tears. This couldn't be right. This wasn't what he -

“Merlin.”, he said. The panic was evident and clear in his voice. And he knew the knights were just as confused as him. They were as unwilling to touch Merlin as Arthur was.  
They probably were scared to get infected themselves.  
Arthur shook of his fear. If they just stood there, watching him, letting their hearts be crushed by the realization, then they were letting Merlin die.

“Shit.”, Arthur muttered and rushed over to his best friend. His heart was bleeding.

He didn't care if he was getting infected now, they had to help Merlin!  
Arthur would personally do every sacrifice they needed to save Merlin.  
But to find out what that was, he had to be sure that Merlin was healthy enough to travel back to Camelot, so Gaius could examine him. Gaius would know what to do. Gaius had been saved! Gaius would be able to cure Merlin!

Arthur winced at the sight of Merlin's open back and the way his fingers stood in every direction but the ones they were supposed to stand.

Merlin shivered and another wave of gold surrounded him, making Arthur jumpy in response.  
Mesmerized, Arthur watched, as the magic closed up Merlin's wounds to neat pale skin.  
How his fingers snapped back in their right places and color returned to his face.  
There were no scars left whatsoever. Just clean, unharmed skin, where his clothes were torn from the whips that he had been tortured with.  
Arthur tried to keep his mind focused. He didn't want to give the magic any room to latch on to him.  
He shouldn't be amazed by this.  
He shouldn't have this random moment of doubt: since when does magic heal people? It's a sickness.... isn't it?  
But maybe the magic wanted to keep Merlin alive before it killed him... to have more room to infect others?

Arthur shook his head. This wasn't the time to think about any of this. He needed to get Merlin back to Camelot. Back to Gaius.

\------------------------------------------

“I brought him to my room. He's asleep. I made sure nobody but me touches him. I can't risk anyone catching it!”, Arthur told Gaius as soon as they were home again.  
Gaius raised his famous eyebrow at him. He looked slightly concerned. And Gaius tended to have a rather expressionless and calm facade. The fact that his concern was visible, meant that Gaius was extremely worried.  
“Catching what, Sire?”  
Arthur exhaled a deep breath. The question wasn't unexpected. In fact, when Arthur barged in to Gaius's chambers, he had intended to start with “Merlin has magic.”  
But he had reeled back almost immediately, knowing that shouting things about magic would strictly alarm the guards. Who would inform Uther. Who would definitely sentence Merlin to death.  
Arthur couldn't do this. He couldn't loose Merlin. The sickness had JUST begun. Maybe they could still save him!  
After all, it was the first time Merlin ever used magic. And it didn't look like it was intentional. In fact, Merlin had been wanting to protect Arthur. He couldn't be killed for such a noble act!  
For such bravery.

Arthur locked eyes with Gaius, looking guilty and pained.  
“There was a sorcerer in the woods. We were attacked. And... and Merlin caught it.”  
He hoped this was enough to explain the situation to Gaius. But Gaius just looked utterly confused.  
“I'm sorry … I don't follow.”  
Arthur sighed, stepped forward and whispered to Gaius from a hopefully still save distance. If Arthur himself had caught it, he didn't want to endanger Gaius as well.  
“Magic.”, he said.

Gaius's eyes widened in shock. “He used magic? In front of you?”  
That – Arthur decided – was a strange way to phrase it. But Arthur's mind was swimming with fears and images of loosing Merlin. Either to magic or the stake. He didn't really have time to question Gaius's sentence.  
So he just nodded. Something flashed through the old man's face. Something afraid, something painful and also understanding.  
He didn't waste another second and rushed past Arthur without further notice.  
Arthur – completely exhausted, ran after him.  
That man was surprisingly fast for his old age.

“You haven't told your father?”, Gaius asked on the way upstairs. Arthur nodded, and after realizing that Gaius wasn't looking at him, he added: “I haven't. He would have killed him on the spot.”  
Gaius sighed a breath of relieve.  
“Thank you, Arthur.”, Gaius responded gratefully.

“We can still save him, right?”

Gaius blinked, almost pausing right in front of Arthur's door. “Is he hurt?”, Gaius asked.  
Arthur blinked. What part in, Merlin caught magic didn't Gaius understand?  
So he just nodded. Gaius took a deep breath, then he entered Arthur's chambers.

Merlin lay on the bed, where Arthur had left him, no wounds to be seen. But his clothes were still full of blood. And Arthur had draped his own cloak over him.  
(The cloak that Merlin had gifted him with once. You know the one.)

Gaius wanted to head directly for the bed, but Arthur grabbed him by the shoulder.  
“Are you sure you're not going to catch it? You've had magic once.”

“Sire?”, Gaius stopped, looking at Arthur like he had gone mad. Which, technically, wasn't too far of a stretch, based on what Gaius knew.  
“Are you alright, Arthur?”

Arthur's face twitched. “I don't know! All I know is that Merlin is sick, and caught magic. And I brought him here, so maybe I have it too!  
But I can't tell my father. He'd kill us BOTH! If... when Merlin wakes up, maybe we have to leave Camelot.”  
Arthur had begun to pace now, all while he was completely aware that Gaius was staring at him in confusion and wonder.  
“We could go somewhere where nobody else lives. That way we can both live and nobody else has to get hurt! Gaius, what do you think?”  
Arthur turned around to face Gaius, who had one hand safely put on his ward.

“Sire? What are you talking about?”, Gaius asked.

Arthur's shoulders slumped. This was getting ridiculous. “Magic, Gaius! The contagious disease my father has been trying to fight since he assumed the throne?  
A sickness you've caught once and survived? Merlin has it. And we have to save him.”

Gaius stared at Arthur for another frustrating minute, before he opened his mouth in disbelieve.  
“Arthur... did you father tell you magic was a disease?”

Arthur's faring arms fell to his sides. “Yes. Obviously! Because that's what it is.”  
But Gaius stared at him in something that looked close to horror.  
“Unless it... isn't?”, Arthur finished lamely.

“Sire, magic isn't a disease. It's a gift. It can be used for good or for bad. But you can not catch it like a cold. It doesn't spread like that.  
Magic has it's own conscience and it chooses who can wield it.  
It's a power that is often abused. Especially by the enemies of your father.”

It was such a harmless statement. But when Arthur looked at Gaius's honestly and bewilderment in his eyes at the mere suggestion that magic was a disease.... he felt something within him break.

“But -”, Arthur started and pointed at Merlin.  
“Merlin caught it. He used it! And not on purpose! I know he didn't, because if he did, he could have used it to save himself! The bandit was torturing HIM, not us.  
It acted up, when the bandit was starting to hurt ME! He was trying to protect me! And he exploded with the magic! He didn't do it on purpose... it was like...”  
Arthur's voice drowned out at the end. “Instinct.”, he finished lamely.

“Merlin is a special case.”, Gaius responded and gently rubbed his ward's shoulder.  
Merlin stirred slightly at the touch.  
“Magic is a part of him. I don't think there is any point in denying that anymore.”

“How? If magic is a gift, if it's a power you can wield, how can Merlin -”

“I was born with it.”  
A weak sound emerged from where Merlin lay. Merlin's eyes fluttered open. His dazed eyes slowly focused in on Arthur.  
Arthur caught his breath.  
Merlin sat up. He was still pale. But significantly less pale than before.  
“I'm sorry I didn't tell you. But -”  
Arthur's lips trembled as he listened.  
“I've always been able to use magic. I don't know why.”

Arthur felt numb. “But -”, Arthur wanted to say something. Wanted to say something like... you were ill the entire time and didn't tell me? You had magic and you served so many people?  
Even though you knew how contagious you were?  
Only that according to Gaius... magic wasn't a contagious disease.  
And if Merlin had magic for so long and hadn't used it to kill Arthur. Or at least try to kill him or his father....  
And if Merlin, despite everything, still served Arthur so loyally.... used it to protect him like he did in the cell.... then what?  
What did that mean?  
Was his father wrong?

“Why do you use it?”, Arthur said, his voice shaking with conflict. Gaius and Merlin exchanged a glance.  
Arthur took another deep breath. “If you can choose not to use it – if you know it's forbidden – why do you?”

Merlin smiled at him weakly.  
“Imagine it were forbidden to walk.”

Arthur scoffed, but Merlin almost laughed at that.  
“Imagine it were forbidden to use your legs, because most people can't use theirs. And then imagine your friends were being hurt by people who ignore this rule.  
Wouldn't you stand up and run to save them?”

Arthur's open mouth clamped shut.  
“Who is my father in this analogy.” It wasn't really a question. So Arthur went to clarify.  
“My father is the one who is punishing the bandits who hurt our friends! Having legs might mean to him to him that you're a threat. Because you have an advantage!”  
It was strange to add this to the analogy. But Merlin must understand that analogies are always flawed in a way. He understood what Merlin was trying to say. But the perspective was off, wasn't it?

“Oh Arthur.”, Merlin looked pained, as he answered.  
“Your father isn't the one forbidding us to walk.”  
There was a pause, as Arthur tried to understand where Merlin was going with this.  
“Your father is cutting off our legs.”


End file.
